


Everyone We Know Is Trying To Kill Us

by Severa



Series: Safe House [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Incredible Hulk (2008), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Gen, General, Sam Wilson puts up with so much shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 04:23:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2799458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severa/pseuds/Severa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all started with a super soldier and an assassin on his doorstep. It continued with the world's mightiest heroes all finding themselves down on their luck (or hungry), and somehow, Sam Wilson became the owner of the Avenger's safe house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everyone We Know Is Trying To Kill Us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ancientwinters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ancientwinters/gifts).



> This is just a short fic written as a Christmas gift for a friend. Prompted off and inspired by [this post](http://ancientwinters.tumblr.com/post/100338170648/swirlyink-terapsina-someone-needs-to-write-a). Merry Christmas!

It started with a favor.

“Everyone we know is trying to kill us.”

Sam Wilson blinked at the two honest-to-God superheroes on his doorstep, more perplexed than he was shocked. Days before, he might have called Steve Rogers an acquaintance. A friendly acquaintance at best, but definitely not the type of friend that shows up at your place in a crisis.

Captain America must really be boned, he thought, if he was standing here.

So Sam stepped aside and let them in, scanning the horizon like the good soldier he was as two of the world’s mightiest heroes made his home a safe house.

He had never banked on the fact that the other Avengers would ever spare him a second thought.

* * *

**Clint Barton: Hawkeye**

Hawkeye showed up first, three weeks after Steve. It had been a peaceful day.

Peaceful for everyone but the archer, because Sam opened the door to find him blood spattered and tired on his doorstep.

“Officer.” The archer gave him a lazy two-finger salute.

Sam’s face moved into the same concern he had given Natasha and Steve, but he remembered that duo being considerably less bloody than this man.

“Hawkeye.” His greet and nod were laced with confusion, but he rolled with it, because god knows you have to just roll with it when you have superheroes as friends.

“Just flying by.” Hawkeye gave a knowing smile and a wag of his eyebrows before the sound of gunfire rang out. They both ducked down, stances low, and the archer spun around and fired an arrow before Sam could so much as think of the word ‘wings.’ The arrow ricocheted off a car and someone let out a strangled cry. Impressive.

Slowly, they both rose back to their feet, exhaling in unison.

“I’m betting you need a nest.” Sam assumed, eyes on the bow Hawkeye was securing to his back.

“Steve said you’d be good for it.” He slipped by, inviting himself in. “Call me Clint, Sam. Now you’ve got to show me these wings I’ve heard so much about. Tell me everything - I want to know more than Stark for once in my goddamn life.”

* * *

**Bruce Banner: The Hulk**

Bruce’s visit was mostly an accident. HYDRA had reared its ugly head and baited Steve back into the city, but Captain America came bearing a gift and it was in the form of one mean, green, angry man.

An angry man who managed to pick up Sam's car and throw it through two buildings, and then get pummeled into the side of his house.

The Hulk faded into Bruce Banner while Steve finished off the rest of the forces, and Sam dragged the scientist inside to rest up before he went out flying.

When he and the good Captain came trudging back into his lopsided home, Bruce was sitting in the kitchen.

“I’m sorry I broke your house.”

He wanted to say it was ok, but it really wasn’t, the insurance company would _never_ believe him. So he just waved a dismissive hand in response and uprighted a stool to sit in. Maybe he could crash at the VA for a few weeks while he got this all sorted out...

“I see you welcomed yourself to the fridge.” He commented on Banner’s sandwich, half eaten and neatly placed on a cracked plate. Steve paused only momentarily before opening the refrigerator himself.

“Well…” Bruce cleaned his glasses, watching Steve eat salami out of a bag. “The Other Guy, he-”

“No worries, big man.” Sam relented, not wanting him to feel more guilty than he already did. “A man works up an appetite. ‘Specially the big ones.”

Bruce smiled. Maybe the other guy had smiled too, because three months and one renovation later (nearly everything had Stark’s logo emblazoned on its side now, including his car, but Sam wasn’t complaining of a job done well), he got a visit from the green guy himself.

“Hulk. HUNGRY.”

* * *

**Thor Odinson, God of Thunder**

Four out of six Avengers had now visited Sam’s house, and on a regular basis. Fortunately, they weren’t always just searching for a safehouse; Clint always came by when he was in the area for a bird-pun filled night of beer and war stories, Steve came by semi-regularly just to chat and go to VA meetings for special occasions, and Natasha came by to drink. As in, get fucking hammered and tell Sam things she shouldn’t, but he could keep a secret. Still, he wasn't letting her live down how glorious she thought Steve's ass was in spandex. Sad to say, the Falcon was not beyond blackmail. The Widow was a terrible influence on him.

Avenger number five came by on a particularly stormy night, and Sam had half expected it. When the sound of thunder and fighting mixed, civilians fled a paparazzi flocked. So it totally wasn't weird for him to be dressing in combat gear at two in the morning, as if some monster might emerge from the storm clouds.

“Son of Wil!”

Asgardians apparently didn’t knock, because Thor walked straight into his house like he owned the place, his red mantle waving majestically behind him.

“Captain Rogers has spoken greatly of you.”

Still, prepared or not, Sam found himself at a loss. Thor was a little larger than life, more so than he had expected, and he found himself righting his slacked jaw as Thor clapped him on the shoulder. The God smiled first, all white teeth and blond beard, and then levied him a more serious look.

“They say you have the gift of flight. Is this true?”

Sam managed a nod. “I’m a pilot.”

“Then perhaps you would be willing to do battle at my side. You see, my brother is currently attempting upon your leader’s life, seeking his throne.”

Seeking a throne? A leader?

The president, Sam realized abruptly. Loki was trying to assassinate the president.

“More like he’s just trying to fuck with us.” Clint’s voice came from the door beyond the small living room, left ajar by Thor. He was firing arrows at the sky. “You in, Falcon? Stark says Loki just turned blue-- aaand, he just iced the white house. Thor?”

“Come! To battle, son of Wil.”

Thor strode out, cape waving behind him just the same as when he had entered, and with a swing of his hammer he was flying into the skies.

Approximately three minutes later the Falcon was doing the same.

* * *

**Tony Stark: Iron Man**

Sam didn’t think much about Iron Man. Sure, his house had been rebuilt by Stark Industries and they’d fought together, sharing a few words in brief moments, but they had never actually talked face to face. Steve would mention him in passing sometimes, but it was mostly about how Howard was rolling in his grave or about some new, crazy tech the man was cooking up. Sam saw him on TV every once in a while. The military complained a lot about how Stark Industries didn't make weapons anymore. It was the same old, same old. He might be close to Iron Man by association, but he felt no nearer than before. Iron Man was just a ghost in his life. A ridiculously, obnoxiously rich, metal ghost.

So when Tony Stark came knocking at his door at five in the goddamn morning, talking a million miles a minute and shoving his way into the house, Sam could only blink at the empty doorway.

“Sam Wilson, right? Pepper kicked me out, Rodey’s in Madrid. I’m Stark, Tony Stark - Iron Man, Captain America’s babysitter, take your pick.” Tony went into the kitchen, opening the fridge without invitation. He took out a can of beer and wrinkled his nose at it, but that didn’t stop him from popping it open and drinking. “So this is the safe house. Cozy, I guess. But isn’t it a little in plain sight? I mean, I get hiding out in the open - it’s a good plan-”

“That’s my beer.” Sam cut in, still processing the words being thrown at him. Why did they always raid his fridge?

“ _Was_ your beer.” Tony said, tipping it towards him. “Don’t worry, I’ll buy you something better, wingman. And the wings! Flashy, flashy. I could build you something better, sleeker, less feathery, or maybe more feathery, depends-”

“Wait, Pepper kicked you out? Your girlfriend?” He shook his head. “Isn’t that _your_ tower?”

Tony deflated slightly, shrugging.

“The team’s, technically. But JARVIS was on her side… And Cap’.”

Sam whistled long and low. “You done fucked up, haven’t you?”

“You detach a sleeping man’s metal arm to upgrade it and all the sudden you’re Hitler.”

“Barnes let you get that close?” Sam raised skeptical eyebrows. No wonder Natasha cursed Stark’s recklessness.

“Copious amounts of morphine may have been involved. I plead the fifth.”

“Well, plead the fifth on my couch and toss me a beer, Stark.”

“Call me Tony.” He offered, perking up immediately. “The pizza should be here in twenty.”

Presumptuous asshole.

"You’re paying.”

A wallet bursting with cash was tossed at his chest.

“Keep it. I don’t care.” Tony said, shoving a beer into Sam’s other hand as he went to inspect the living room. “Holy hell, why is your television so small? And what on God’s green earth is this excuse for a sound system? Damn, Birdman, how the hell do you live? Fuck it, lets go out. JARVIS will fix it while we’re gone.” He started barking orders at his StarkPhone, then abruptly looked up. “Do you like cars that go really fast? Like, illegally fast?”

In that moment, Sam decided that Iron Man could crash on his couch at any hour of the goddamn day.


End file.
